Yer Gonna Put An Eye Out! [ Tai Class ]

[Haruka]

Warmth blossomed throughout her chest at the thrush of chakra that worked through her muscles was welcomed, really. It wasn't every day that you got to work up brand new elemental control on oneself. But she was discovering brand new things almost every day, and that was what she wanted. After gripping onto earth, she was sure that she would be able to see many new elements coming her way. Pushing her body up to a standing position, she would reach out and take a hold of the weapon that would form from the metal that had been risen from the ground and she would lift her gaze up to look towards Takayama, blinking a few different times at his bewilderment. "I didn't, but if you don't force yourself to learn brand new things... There's no point in being a shinobi. Really." She would chuckle just lightly now as she would extend out her arm towards him, the blade now refining and working into what could only be described as menacing. It was a theme with Haruka, but maybe on the inside she was a fluffy rainbow unicorn? HAH. One of her feet would now slide in front of the other and she would begin to walk towards the young boy, slashing the weapon down by her side as she watched him in silence.

"Not that I'm not disrupting the woodwork... It should be easier, huh?" She would state, a grin dancing along her facial features. "So, did you know you could use jutsu with your weapon rather than just swinging it around? Do you want help learning one? We can start with just the basic slash, you know." <i></i>

 

[Takayama]

"I didn't, but if you don't force yourself to learn brand new things... There's no point in being a shinobi. Really."
<i></i>

Some gentle wisp of dust settled just beyond Takayama's vantage point, his eyes gliding over the blade still being birthed ahead of him as he lifted himself to full height. If he could swindle away an ounce, just one ounce of the control she exuded, he would be practically unstoppable. In any other class room he might have felt himself trying to glean away truths about chakra and the nature of war that were being withheld from him, but in this one... The one he had stumbled across by sheer chance... It was being blatantly waved in his face. All he had to do was focus.

"Not that I'm not disrupting the woodwork... It should be easier, huh? So, did you know you could use jutsu with your weapon rather than just swinging it around? Do you want help learning one? We can start with just the basic slash, you know."
<i></i>
"Yes! I mean... Right here? No spending four weeks on meditating on colors or something like that?"

He had practically jumped at the offer, his reserved tone returning about halfway through the words leaving his mouth. He realized his over-eagerness at about the same time, his body taking up a more refined stance as he lifted the blade over his head in a simplified offensive stance he had seen some of the monks at the temple take up. His forward leg ground it's away against the smooth tile somehow, the debris leaving enough soil beneath him to get a decent sense of what he was walking as he took in the most solid breath he could muster and tried to avoid to mental fumble he had managed on her last attack.

"Maybe after that you can teach me your trick with the floor."

At this he would smile, a subtle sort of earnesty that was muddied by the anxious boy's quickly growing lust for swords. All the same, he would await her approach again or follow whatever instructions she chose to give.


All he needed was one ounce.

 

[Haruka]

"...Meditating on colors?" Now, confusion would cross over Haruka's facial features as she watched the boy. What in the world was he talking about? Meditation was not the way that someone honed their body and really got down to the grit. So why he would think that she would push him into sitting idly was... yeah, no. Sitting only got a person swept off of their feet and hurt. No one sat back and meditated in battle. This all came from her not being the most religious oriented person in the village, that much she was sure of. "No, no waiting for four weeks. That's a waste of time, just so ya know." She would chuckle for a moment, her grip tightening a small bit on the weapon that she held. Now then, to teach a boy some Taijutsu. It seemed like Taijutsu should've been every boy's choice in the art of jutsu. It was rough and tumble, made a person sweat, bleed, and get dirty. Yeah, it was the exact art that every person in the cabinet of the Daimyo did not want her to go into, but she chose to do it anyways. "Follow my motions." She would state, watching him for a moment before placing one foot in front of the other to reach out and slash the newfound blade in her hand in a diagonal motion. Stepping backwards, she would place her feet back together and then she would make an example of herself again. The opposite foot in front of the other, she would make a horizontal slahs this time.

"There are many different type of slashes that you can perform. This one is just a basic one. No target dummies or anything. People think it's as easy as just slashing outwards and stuff, but no, it takes percision. It's almost like an art, I would say. The most basic things can paint an amazing picture. Now, just show me what you can do. I want you to do ten slashes starting... now." She would turn her body and watch him, keeping a careful eye on his form and how he dictated himself. It truly was interesting to watch a person learn, to see all of the motions that they took to really take it all in. The Academy was not one of her favorite parts of being a shinobi mainly because of the raw power she had... but, it was where she could obtain friends and her team. Ah well.<i></i>

 

[Takayama]

"An art..."


Takayama tilted his head. His step-father had only ever spoken of conflict from a rigid and emotionless viewpoint, claiming that it was a pointless endeavor only to be used "against the most ignorant of earth's beasts". Yet, here was someone who could only be at the peak of their field, above even the temple's standards, calling it something that he could barely relate to except through that single tendon in his heart that seemed to vibrate at the word.

An art...

He gripped the handle of his orphaned blade with some semblance of pride as he took in every detail he could manage, his wide gray eyes burning away at the edge of her image and trying to isolate the base vibrations in her figure to work out the isometric necessities he would most likely lack. She didn't give him long before it was his turn, her eyes turning as though they were directly connected to some hidden cog that allowed her to view his very bones.

And they must have.

Takayama took up his teacher's stance with some hesitance, attempting blindly to position everything precisely as she had demonstrated. Whether he was properly lining up his spine correctly, moving with the ball of his heel, pressing his pelvis forward, or cupping his lats properly were all things he would never know for himself until his teacher said otherwise. His first swing would come regardless though, his body pushing too hard and ending sloppily as he attempted to force his isometric muscles to perform resistance exercises he had never even conceived of before. His second swing was worse in the sense that it was softer and less of a strike than a swing.

Strike five seemed to grasp the general idea with some sensibility, his body ending in the proper position at the proper speed while still somehow managing to look like the least threatening thing a person could possibly encounter. He swung away regardless, making it to swing eleven before his own embarrassment caught up with him.

He stopped short, his twelfth and-a-half swing likely prompted by voice or glare or his own flushed cheeks as he realized his mistake and tried to find a way to rationalize it. He had not mastered Haruka-sama's demonstration, in spite of his focus. The only thought in his head was that he had observed incorrectly.

He swallowed.

He hoped she might forgive him, but based on his father's teachings, something terrible was about to happen...

 

[Takayama]

... And perhaps something did.

Or perhaps something didn't...

All we can be sure of is that shortly before the soon-to-be Tsuchikage had departed the decidedly worse off gymnasium, the boy with the blue hair had quickly darted off. He had given his all to this lesson and, by sheer chance and lack of omniscience, had lost track of time. A witness would call him 'panicking' as they watched him from a courtyard window in the academy's upper level. His last whereabouts were noted just outside the temple of five where a pair of decidedly compromised young souls managed to witness him entering at a rapid pace, their only note being how he hesitated at the entryway before entering in a solemn manner.

Where exactly the blue haired shinobi hopeful had gone after that no one can say, but he was not seen for over a month and, some time after his disappearance from the classes he never was officially part of anyway, he was declared inactive and taken off the roster.


After this, there were few who would remember him outright. He was the son of a priest after all, he had not been seen that often to begin with...




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